The Tiny River Alne - Cats and Catastrophisms

You've got to hand it to the Americans: when they do a thing, they do it big. And they like their creature comforts. Take winter fishing. They don't do it like we do: sitting there all day as fully paid-up masochists, turning blue and seizing up, having to be thawed out when we get home. Watching with dismay as the frostbitten bits go thudding on to the hearthrug. At least in Minnesota they don't.

There's a stretch of lakes there, Mille Lacs, 22 miles long, which freezes over every year. And freezes properly, with three feet of ice.

Every winter there are 3,800 houses on that ice, grouped in 100 villages. Centrally heated, they are, with lighting, running water, fridges, tellys, carpets and all mod cons.

The hardy American anglers are fishing inside the houses, through holes bored in the ice. 

True, there are some hard men who scorn indoor fishing, or who can only get to the lake for the odd day trip. 

Not for them the molly-coddling of armchairs and central heating. Oh no: they cut holes in the floors of their cars and sit there roughing it.

But for most of the anglers, it's the delights of the Great Indoors. The one snag seems to be that whole families go along and ice neighbourhoods are set up, with elected mayors to make sure everybody's having fun. There are barbecues, volleyball, horseshoe pitching and film shows in case anybody's getting bored.

The whole family. In an ice house 10ft by 24ft. Can you imagine us putting up with it? Telly on full blast when you're trying to concentrate. Kids swarming all over the place. Cats falling down the spare ice holes. The Wife vacuuming the carpet just as the rod tip starts to twitch. And what about mealtimes, when Sod's law decreeces that they're bound to clash with feeding times beneath the ice ?

In Britain we seldom have ice thick enough for the ice house idea to catch on in a big way. Nor even the polar bears to make sure the Wife wouldn't have to spend to long sitting about in the cold. But some form of the indoor fishing would have its appeal in winter, especially around Christmas when we are also trying to indulge in a spot of Ding Dong Merrily. 

I suppose you could drill a few holes in the cellar floor until they reach the underground stream. The stalwart local anglers could then fish and sup at the same time in complete safety. No chance at all falling in the water. And if you were to place a barrel at their disposal, there would be no need for service, save a lot on wages. 

What's more, you wouldn't even need to throw the anglers out, when the pub is closed he could just leave them to it, wouldn't be a bit of trouble, "Mick what the heck are you on about !! " ( I dreamt all this believe it or not 😃) and it was proper lucid dream I must admit. Get on the blue cheese before bedtime, it certainly works for me !!! Dream like you have never dreamt before !!!

Anyway to the fishing, well all the local rivers were in flood apart from the Alne which always drops like a stone. It's been up and down, up and down, up and down, all over the shop basically but I was hoping some slack water might hold a chub or two.

To cut a long story short, two different stretches, probably 6 or 7 different swims and a few of those looked perfect for a bite, but how wrong was I. Not even a nibble on the cheesepaste sadly, even in the swim that rarely doesn't produce a fish, didn't today. I even fished a good hour in the pouring rain, naff all. I just cannot believe how rubbish the weather has been, I bet the fish are sulking like I am. On to the next one !!!